


Gearing Up

by letitrainathousandflames



Series: Senator Cody AU [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clone Angst, Dehumanization, Gen, Grieving, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, The Army of Human Rights Violations, senator cody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:02:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitrainathousandflames/pseuds/letitrainathousandflames
Summary: Cody gears up for a mission different from any other he's done before. Rex and Wolffe are there for him.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex & CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: Senator Cody AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840225
Comments: 17
Kudos: 198





	Gearing Up

**Author's Note:**

> Commander Cody becoming a Senator is a concept I've seen floating around on tumblr and decided to give my own spin to it. I hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

Cody places the chest plate over his sternum, allowing the magnetic clasps to attach the piece to an equally plain one over his back. It feels strange, the lack of protection over his lower body. His midriff remains unprotected under the overshirt.

“This feels… unsafe.” he grumbles “Too Exposed.”

Rex hands him the kama with a small grin, the little di’kut. Of course he and Wolffe had mocked him over it, how he was finally gonna wear one like they did. While Cody ties the thing in place, Rex points a finger at him.

“Listen, senator Organa told us to keep it simple. You’re not headed for battle, vod.”

“He might just be.” Wolffe quips with a low growl, handing Cody his belt “There isn’t one kriffing person in there that’ll be happy to see a clone in the senate floor.”

Cody sighs with the belt in his hands. Again, too simple. No thermal detonators hanging from it, much less his holstered blasters. Just a plain strap of leather shielded by plastoid plates. He snaps it in place with a grimace.

Cody then reaches for the arm guards over the table, running his finger over its grooves. The senate. How much did they know about the soldiers fighting and dying for them off-world? How did they feel about their existence? Senator Organa said they might listen to him, but what are the odds of him being forcefully escorted out like a droid speaking out of turn?

What if he is actually putting them all at risk? If the _kaminiise_ start thinking that even their Marshall Commander is starting to sound like a traitor, how long before they arrive to the conclusion that the clones were a failed experiment and that it would be better to terminate every single one of them?

His eyes drift over to the carefully folded cape, to the names that he had personally embroidered on its inside, thinks about how no cape, no flag, no amount of fabric would be enough to actually get all of them, thousands upon thousands of men lost to this endless war.

Rex walks up to Cody, glances at him to then gently bump his hand guard to the commander’s.

“ _Me'bana, vod?_ ”

Wolffe steps over to his other side brushing his shoulder to Cody’s, and the three of them stare at the names on the fabric as Cody unfurls the cape, spreading it some over the table. The three of them look at it in silence, reading and associating each name to a face, to a voice, to a personality. There are some of Wolffe’s men, lost to the Malevolence’s attacks; some of both Rex and Cody’s men, all lost in Umbara, several of them to friendly fire. And many others, as many as Cody could manage to fit in such a small space.

That piece of fabric is the only concrete form of remembrance for these men without graves or monuments. Clones can only trust their memories to keep the history of their brothers alive, and it makes Cody’s heart ache.

“ _Ni chaabar_.” Cody says quietly, and it's only in their Mando’a that he can find it in himself to explain his feelings “I could end up getting us all killed with this.”

There is a small moment of silence, and then Wolffe sighs heavily.

“We are already getting killed. Every time we fight, we lose dozens, hundreds, sometimes _thousands_ of our vod’e in battle, or we watch them die in the medbay, too wounded to survive.”

Cody turns to face Wolffe. The commander, as many other clones, never had been fond of speaking more than the strictly necessary, especially about the bleak conditions in which they all live and fight in; Maybe it was to protect himself, maybe to protect his men. Maybe it was just his way of managing to cross the tightrope of war without ever looking down. But now he speaks - and Cody listens.

“They keep lowering the age of drafting.” Wolffe continues, tracing the embroidered name of a wolfpack trooper with his gaze “First it was by a few weeks, then months, and now…” Cody notices Wolffe poking his cheek with his tongue “I was nine when I was sent out to lead my battallion. I was scared, but I was _grown_ and _ready_.” Wolffe’s eyebrows crease in a weave of confusion and barely-hidden anger as he turns his eyes to cody “Last week I received word of new batches coming out, most of them eight, a couple of them barely there. The kaminiise are sending out a bunch of still-growing kids to fight before their standard training is even done. We already have accelerated aging to fit the needs of the Republic, but that? That is just _sick._ ”

“And we can’t say a word about it because we aren’t technically a _people_.” Rex ads sheepishly “We can’t say a word about being forced to work overtime. Can’t say anything about being paid in _‘special GAR credits’_. Or about the overcrowded dorms, or the need for longer breaks, or mental healthcare, or entertainment, or a _life_ outside the army.”

Rex runs a hand over his cropped blond hair, and Cody can notice the tension in his jaw.

“We are loyal in a way most governments only dream of.” he continued, eyes sharp at Cody “We live and breathe and fight and die for the republic, and we are all proud to do so. But we need to believe that we receive back at least half of the high regard in which we hold the Republic. We aren’t asking for much, and the Republic has denied us the right to even ask.”

And after a small pause Rex swallows down, and his tone makes it clear that he _knows_ how very daring it is to just _say_ it:

“Do we risk death for our freedom, or do we continue to live as slaves?”

“Rex.” Wolffe says in a warning tone

The two of them know of Cody’s loyalty to the Republic. When the idea of having him speak against it in the senate even came up, Cody’s first response was to accuse them of threason. It had taken long enough to convince him to find the narrow path between his fear-based respect for the Kaminoans, his dedication for the republic and the jedi, and his love for his brothers.

Cody frowns to then run a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and speaking between his teeth.

“I’m not a _slave_. I love my duty. _I love the Republic!_ ”

Maybe he should just give up on this. It was all a huge mistake, he had allowed Wolffe and Rex to drag him along with this nonsense. He can just turn his back on this and get back to the barracks, to his armor, to his command, where he belongs…

He opens his eyes, and the very first thing he sees is one of the names in aurebesh, drawing in his gaze like a trance.

Waxer. How could someone with such a kind, gentle heart be so _deadly_ in the battlefield? He earned his rank as lieutenant, quick on his feet and skilled with a blaster like few troopers were. Cody remembers him, the eager cadet that would always be seen hanging out with his batch brother Boil. Waxer had a heart soft enough to make him adopt a lost child in the middle of a war zone, to pet and feed stray animals and let them in their cover when it rained. He would make such an amazing parent, Cody could almost envision him holding a tiny bundle in his arms, just like Jango would do with his own. Waxer would love his kid with all his heart…

If he had lived to see it happen. Instead, Waxer died in a dark world, fallen to a brother’s blast, crying in pain and fear as Rex had reported it.

Wordlessly, Cody puts on the vambraces, then the arm guards. Lastly, he takes the cape, brushes his gloved thumb over Waxer’s name. He ows it to him. He ows him to at least _try_. Cody throws the cape over his shoulders, securing it in the straps on the inside of his chest plate.

His brothers look at him with pride, and it makes Cody's heart swell. His comlink rings, and Bail Organa’s voice comes through it:

“Commander Cody, are you ready?”

Cody looks at Rex and Wolffe, nods at them and draws in a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“I’m about to announce you to the senate. Remember - keep your opening statement _short and fast_ because we don’t know what will be their reaction. And, from personal experience: if they try cutting your speakers up there, just carry on by _shouting_ the rest of your statement. Good luck my friend.”

Cody chuckles, pressing the comlink.

“Good thing that us commanders are good at shouting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mando’a translations:
> 
> Me'bana, vod? - what’s the matter, brother?
> 
> Ni chaabar - I’m afraid


End file.
